


An Honourable Estate

by pulpriter



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: AU/Future, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 05:26:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 4,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4693727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pulpriter/pseuds/pulpriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A future that would change everything, and yet is not impossible; because people never act the way you think they will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gathered together

**Author's Note:**

> Pushing the barriers again…  
> These characters are not mine but are increasingly taking over my life.  
> Please review.

It was shaping up to be a peaceful morning at 221B The Esplanade.   
Jack and Phryne were enjoying tea after breakfast, and Jack was looking over the newspaper. “Hmm,” he said.  
“What is it?” Phryne asked, putting marmalade on a piece of toast.   
“It says here Rosie is getting married again,’ Jack said, with only mild interest.  
Phryne sniffed. “I wish her luck. She has appalling taste in men.”   
“What?!”  
Phryne shrugged and leaned in over Jack’s shoulder. “Well, she let you get away and then chose Sidney Fletcher. What hope does she have?” She pressed a quick kiss to Jack’s cheek.   
Jack pulled out his ever-present handkerchief to wipe off the lipstick—he was quite efficient at it after all this time. He turned his head and gazed into her eyes. “You could have put that another way.”   
She merely gave him a smug look.

Later that week, Phryne found Jack in the study, puzzling over the books in the bookshelf. “There you are! I wondered what you were up to.”   
Jack continued to search the bookshelf. “Just looking for a book…I was sure I brought it here, but I must have left it at my flat.” He turned and smiled at her. “I’ll look for it there tomorrow. Ready for an after-dinner drink?”   
“Mmm, lovely,” Phryne said, for that was indeed what she had been intending when she went hunting for Jack.   
When they were happily ensconced in the parlour with drinks served by Mr. Butler, Phryne said, “Jack, have you ever considered giving up your flat? You are comfortable here, aren’t you?”   
“Yes, of course. You know I am.”   
“Well, then, why keep it?”   
He smiled. “I’m sure I wouldn’t bother, if it wasn’t for my job.”   
Phryne frowned. “Your job? What do you mean?”  
Jack was surprised that she asked. “You know my job is often ruled by politics. As a divorced man, my morals are already suspect, and discreet though we may try to be, our relationship is not a secret; there are people who feel that compromises me as a servant of the law. I only keep the flat for the sake of propriety.” He could see she was taken aback. “Hadn’t you ever thought of that?”  
Phryne stood up and paced a little. “No, I never did.” She was clearly unhappy.   
“It’s just the way things are. It’s not worth worrying about. Come on, sit down, and enjoy your drink.”   
Phryne stopped pacing, but wasn’t interested in being placated. “I can’t abide the idea of anyone judging you because of us.”   
“This isn’t like you. When have you ever worried about what people think?”   
“That’s different. I don’t care what anyone thinks of me. But I don’t want my actions to make them think badly of you.”   
“Dearest! Forget it! It’s not worth this much thought or effort. And it is certainly not worth ruining our nightcap.” He gestured to the seat beside him. She did offer him a small smile, and came to curl up against his side. He pulled her close. “Let’s talk about something else.”   
They passed a lovely evening, but in the back of Phryne’s mind, wheels were spinning.


	2. Presence of witnesses

The next morning, Jack was again sitting at the breakfast table reading the news and savoring a cup of tea. Mr. Butler bustled around, Dot had stopped by and was snacking on a piece of toast, and Bert and Cec were sharing the racing forms.   
Phryne swept into the kitchen. She kissed Jack on the cheek, and announced, “Jack, I have the perfect solution to the problem of people and their opinions. We should just get married!”   
Dot gasped with joy. Bert almost dropped the stub of a cigarette from his mouth. Cec and Mr. Butler went still.   
Jack looked at Phryne. “What?” he said in an exasperated tone. “That’s preposterous!”   
This time it was Phryne’s jaw that dropped. “Well! That is certainly not the reaction I expected!” she huffed.   
Jack tossed his paper down on the table, rattling the china. “What reaction did you expect? Phryne, you have made it abundantly clear that you are ‘not the marrying kind’ and that you have no desire to be married to me—or anyone else, I think—and I’ve learned to accept that.” He shook his head. “This is all about that wretched flat, isn’t it? Very well, here’s a proposal for you. Will you please do me the honor…of actually thinking this all the way through?”   
“Jack Robinson, that was a terrible thing to say!”   
Dot’s happy expression had changed to one of alarm; everything had somehow turned upside down. Bert and Cec had long since scuttled out the door to the garden. Mr. Butler seemed to have taken up residence in the pantry.   
“Excuse me,” Dot whispered, slowly moving toward the door.   
Jack gave her a look. “I’d run, too, if I were you.”   
“Oh, no, you don’t, Jack! You’re not going anywhere until we have this out,” said Phryne. Each word seemed laced with an exclamation point.   
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” 

Life at 221B The Esplanade for the next few days was bombastic, to say the least. It was indeed true that Jack wouldn’t dream of walking away from a disagreement, nor would Phryne. Neither one of them was any good at backing down once a claim had been staked. In their early days together, Phryne had worried that he might move out if they disagreed, but soon learned that he believed in their relationship too much for that. Jack had wondered if she might ask him to leave if they disagreed, but soon learned that she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.


	3. Not entered into lightly

For much of each day, Jack and Phryne got along, did their work, ate, slept, loved…but at least once a day, the troubling subject popped up again. When it did, everyone else took cover. 

“Why shouldn’t we be married?” Her voice was verging on being strident.   
“Why should we? It’s not what you ever wanted before.”   
“Maybe I’ve changed my mind.”   
Maybe you’ve lost your mind, he thought, but knew better than to say it. “And…why would you do that?”   
“Didn’t you know? It’s a woman’s prerogative.”   
“Ah. So I’ve heard.”   
“So….?”   
“What if we marry and you change your mind again? It doesn’t work very well. Take it from me.”   
“Oooooooh!” she said. “Why won’t you take this seriously?”   
“I am taking it seriously.” Jack was thankful that Mr. Butler chose that moment to bring them their after-dinner drinks. Mr. Butler had always had a preternatural sense about what went on in the house, even if he was a little skittish during these long, drawn-out disagreements. “Thank you, Mr. Butler.”   
“Yes, of course, thank you, Mr. Butler.” She distractedly took a glass from the tray that was offered to her. Mr. Butler left the room.   
Jack and Phryne faced each other. He raised his glass and cocked an eyebrow at her; she rolled her eyes.   
“Oh, fine,” she said, frustrated, but clinked her glass to Jack’s. “This isn’t over. But… maybe it is over for tonight.” She gave him an ironic smile that was nonetheless full of promise.  
They both drank deep, and peace prevailed again.


	4. Love, honor, keep

One evening, Jack came home to find Phryne gazing pensively out the window.  
“What is it? What’s wrong?” he asked gently.  
Phryne turned to him. “I don’t really have any hold over you, Jack.”  
“You can’t possibly believe that.”  
She tried to explain. “I mean, I don’t have any right.”  
“You never wanted any.” He kissed her softly on the cheek and went to the study.

She set to thinking about that. After all this time, she relied on him, knew his body nearly as well as her own, recognized his every mood and yet could still be surprised by him. She thought of how she loved their nightcaps, their breakfasts, the many little rituals that were theirs alone.  
She also thought of the many ways he irritated her. He had to have solitude, sometimes—she had learned that the hard way; he tended to let his job take over his life; he kept messing about in the garden even though she had a gardener to take care of that; he did calisthenics in the morning, for goodness’ sake! 

In the beginning, she had meant to leave the door open, in case she wanted to be free again. Now, she couldn’t quite imagine a situation where she would willingly choose to leave him. Another man? That’s what she had thought she’d want. There had been a few times at first when she was tempted to give it a try, to see how it felt, to see what would happen; but then, she would think of all she had to lose. That seemed like far too much of a risk.  
Besides, he was just…Jack. It put her right off the idea of anyone else.


	5. Forsaking all

They were at it again. 

“I always thought you’d prefer to be married,” Phryne persisted.  
“If all I wanted was to be married again, I could’ve—” He stopped himself. When she got him irritated enough, he sometimes said too much. But he had stopped too late.  
“You could’ve what?”  
He broke eye contact with her. “Let it go,” he said, looking aside. “It has nothing to do with us.”  
She was already puzzling it out in her head. “When we met, you were still married, and faithful to your vows, even if Rosie was long gone…” Her tone indicated what she thought of that. “Who else---?”  
“Phryne. Give it up. This is pointless.”  
Phryne gasped. “Concetta Strano!” He didn’t answer, but turned away. “My God, Jack! Her grandfather wanted her to marry Roberto Salvatore—but she wanted to marry you!”  
He turned back to her now and tried to lighten the mood. “I suppose most people would find me preferable to a murderer..”  
“Stop it. Of course she wanted to be with you. It was obvious.” She bit her lip. “You could have been happy with her.”  
“I could have,” he admitted. “Once.”  
“She would have been perfect for you. She was lovely. She would have married you, had babies, taken care of your house, made you fabulous meals…What happened? Why didn’t you?”  
“She…changed her mind.”  
Phryne was hurt. “You’ve never lied to me before, Jack, but I can’t believe that.”  
Jack raised his eyebrows in genuine surprise. “Why not? She wouldn’t be the first woman to change her mind about me.”  
Phryne wished she knew where Rosie was now. She hoped she wasn’t out destroying some other good man somewhere. “Rosie was a fool.”  
If Jack was honest with himself, he took some satisfaction from that comment; but he didn’t reply to it. He heaved a sigh, then reached out and pulled Phryne into his arms. “Talking about other people doesn’t really help us work anything out.”  
Phryne laid her head on his shoulder. “I know.” She wrapped her arms around him. His solid frame was so completely familiar, and such a source of comfort. She let his embrace restore her equilibrium, then raised her head and looked deep into his fathomless eyes. “Well, maybe someday you’ll tell me the whole story.” Coquettishly, she added, “You really are the most aggravating man.”  
“So you keep telling me,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry to do this, but I’m having computer problems (it may be the operator, but I am inclined to blame a bandwidth hog across the hall). I was having trouble whipping Chapter 8 into line, anyway, so I’m going to stop here and post the rest in a day or so. Apologies!


	6. Vows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the final installment of An Honourable Estate. I hope you will enjoy it, and tell me what you think.   
> And remind me never to post half a story again, please.

Phryne found herself thinking about marriage more and more. She wasn’t sure why she couldn’t let it go. It used to be that she had wanted nothing to do with even the mention of it! But as soon as Jack had refused her, she couldn’t get it out of her head—and not only because she didn’t like being turned down. But why? Shouldn’t she have been relieved? He had given her the out she always said she wanted. 

“I wouldn’t have to promise to obey you, you know,” Phryne announced one evening. “They’re leaving that out now.”   
Jack was grateful for his training in controlling his reactions. It was very useful with suspects and during interrogations. He had never dreamed how often he would need it once he let his life be intertwined with Phryne’s.   
“What if they hadn’t?” he asked for no particular reason.   
“I could have crossed my fingers, couldn’t I?”   
He shook his head. “I’m sure I’d have been disappointed if you didn’t.”  
//   
“When you proposed to Rosie, were you worried about the future?”  
It wasn’t often that Phryne startled a bark of laughter out of the very controlled Inspector, but this did. “Not a bit of it!” he continued to laugh. His eyes had a faraway look, as if he was gazing on his past self. “I was twenty years old, completely sure of myself, and certain I knew exactly how the world worked.”   
Phryne couldn’t help but smile fondly at the notion of Jack at that age. “I’d like to have known you then…but I suppose we wouldn’t have gotten along. I would never have looked twice at a policeman—unless it was to run from him!” She thought back for a moment. “I had such a chip on my shoulder then; had for a long time, really…”   
“I haven’t noticed any chip.” He stroked his fingers lightly over her neck, across her shoulder and down her arm. She wondered how she had ever survived without the feel of his hands on her skin.   
She answered, “No, it seems to have fallen off somewhere along the way. Perhaps I don’t need it any more.”   
It seemed to make him happy to hear her say it. “Perhaps not. You don’t have to face everything alone, now.”   
//   
She thought back on how Jack had struggled with their unorthodox arrangement in the beginning. The issue of finances had been particularly thorny.   
“Phryne, a man wants to provide for a woman, to take care of her,” Jack had said. “You don’t need me for anything.”   
She stared at him. “That is utterly ridiculous,” she said.   
“Which part?”   
It had been too soon: she hadn’t been able to say she needed him. When she didn’t answer immediately, he continued, “You have to admit that men usually are the providers.”  
She countered, “In this case, there is no provider. I inherited my money: I didn’t provide it, I didn’t lift a finger for it. And it’s my choice to share the spoils. It’s not a usual situation at all.”   
“Nothing about us is a ‘usual situation’,” he muttered. “It never has been.”  
“Jack, that’s the fun of it!”   
She had managed to convince him at long last that his value to her did not consist of supporting her financially, but it had not been easy. She was grateful they had found their way through.   
//  
Life together had plenty of challenges. Not long after Jack moved in, Phryne had become ill with a sore throat and fever. Jack had been wonderful. He and Mr. Butler and Dot had conspired to keep her comfortable and protected until the worst was over. She couldn’t remember a time she had felt so cherished.

She had been keen to return the favor when the time came that Jack needed it. She had done a lot of nursing work during the war, and was sure she could be very helpful. However, it had never occurred to her that Jack would be such a completely dreadful patient. He moaned and groaned, wavered between telling her to leave and insisting he was fine, refused to do anything that she knew would help, and ignored all her advice. She had thought her war experience had prepared her for anything, no matter how awful. She had never dreamed any ailing man could drive her to throwing a tray of toast at him, or that any man could so richly deserve it.


	7. Love and cherish

Once again, Phryne had brought up the troublesome subject. 

Jack was beginning to believe it was more than a passing fancy, and spoke very plainly to her about it. “Phryne. Sweetheart. You must know that I’d be very happy to be joined to you in marriage. It’s how I was raised, what I expected from life—how I’m made. But I’m not the only person involved here. If I learned anything from watching my marriage to Rosie fall apart, it’s this: one person can’t make a marriage succeed or fail. Whatever we decide to do, it has to be mutually agreed upon.”  
“But if you’d like us to be married, I don’t see why you turned me down.”  
“I couldn’t believe you were taking it seriously. You sprang it on me, in a roomful of people, as if you were announcing you wanted to paint the parlour or buy a new car.”  
“Oh, Jack.”  
She leaned against him. He was right; she needed to examine her motives for the way she had handled it. But he was wrong about one thing; it wasn’t that she didn’t take it seriously. It was because she was so afraid of it, that she had tried to downplay it into something else. She still wasn’t ready to think too much about that yet. 

To break the mood, she looked up slyly. “Buy a new car?”  
He played along. “That _would_ be serious.”


	8. All the days of my life

One evening, Phryne and Jack attended a party for a charity that Phryne supported. It was pleasant enough, although the guest list was enormous; “the cream of Melbourne’s society”, as Aunt Prudence would say. It took a good part of the evening, but at last Phryne and Jack had fulfilled their social obligations and were ready for a change of pace. The band struck up a familiar tune, and they stepped out onto the dance floor and swung into a foxtrot.   
They hadn’t been dancing long when Phryne observed with pleasure, “We seem to be attracting attention.”   
Jack said expansively, “Of course we are. As always, you are the most beautiful woman in the room. And I’m the luckiest man.”   
She was used to him saying lovely things—Jack was quite a romantic at heart. At first, she had accepted it as her due; men always said lovely things to her, usually with one goal in mind. As time went on, she grew accustomed to Jack’s easy praise, and she sometimes took it for granted. This time, she felt her throat close with emotion. “And I might be the luckiest woman,” she choked out. Tears pricked at her eyes.   
He gazed down in pleased surprise, but then saw the threatening tears. “Dear heart, what’s wrong?”   
“Nothing’s wrong, just…can we go out to the terrace?”   
“Of course.” He put a protective arm around her shoulder and led her off the dance floor.

They passed through the doors to the terrace, and cooler air breezed over them. They found a spot away from the other partygoers. Jack leaned against the wall, and waited quietly.   
Looking back on it later, she never could explain why it happened at that particular point in time. But this night, at this moment, she looked up at this man, so utterly familiar to her, so dear, and saw him with crystal clarity. Softly, she said, “I’ll never want anyone else, Jack.”  
If he had seemed surprised by her earlier remarks, now he seemed completely stunned. “Phryne!” He straightened and moved away from the wall, closer to her.  
She went on. “I’ve spent so much of my life running from the past. I’m tired of letting it define me! I’m not the woman I was, and you’re not the man who hurt me. I want to leave the past behind and embrace the future, with no more fear. And—with you. If you’ll stay with me.”   
“How could I leave?” Now it was his voice that was husky with emotion. She pulled him close and he buried his face in her hair, then kissed her hair, her cheek, and turned her face up to his. 

They left the party soon after that, and returned home. Although it was early, Mr. Butler hardly heard them exchange a word as they made their way up the stairs. 

The moon shone brighter that night, and the stars danced.


	9. Consented together

A few days after the party, they were relaxing side by side in the parlour. They had been discussing a case, then moved on to other subjects. Finally they sat together in comfortable silence. The life they shared was warm and easy, and they were content. 

For no apparent reason, Jack asked Phryne, “Do you remember Paddy, from Collingwood?”  
“Oh, I do. He wanted to marry me!”  
“I told you I thought it would take a brave man to propose to you.”  
She laughed as she remembered. “And I said, ‘Or a very foolish one’. ”  
He took her hand in his larger one, and held it reverently. “We both know I’ve been a fool for you for a very long time.”  
She went still. He stroked her hand, and she held her breath.  
“Phryne. Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”  
He had managed to take her unawares, after all the talk, all the arguments. “Oh, Jack. Oh, Jack…”  
She kissed him, deeply, happily, lovingly. When they broke apart, Jack nudged, “You know, it’s good form to answer the question.”  
“Ridiculous man! I will.” He smiled and pulled her back against him. “Jack, you didn’t ask me to be your wife.”  
“No. This seemed better. Is it all right?”  
“You know I don’t wish to be a possession. It’s perfect! Just perfect. You’re perfect.”  
“Oh, no! But you know that already.” He paused. “And you’re sure it’s what you want?”  
She took his hand in both of hers, thought for a moment, and pulled it against her heart. “Jack, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”  
“I will.” His face was a study in vulnerability, his dark eyes as deep as she had ever seen them. Nothing more needed to be said.


	10. Pledging their troth

This time, when Phryne broke the news at the breakfast table that she and Jack would be married, it was without controversy.  
Dot, after some initial uncertainty, gave in to her natural enthusiasm. “Will it be a big wedding?” she asked in happy anticipation.  
Jack gently reminded her that no church was likely to marry a divorced man, and Phryne said she wasn’t interested in that kind of a show anyway. They made arrangements to be married at the registry office, with Dot and Hugh standing by as witnesses. 

On the appointed day, as it was getting to be time to leave for the registry office, Jack was patting down his pockets in frustration. “What are you doing?” Phryne asked.  
“Looking for the ring,” he said, annoyed. “I must have left it at my flat.”  
“Your flat!”  
He stopped in his tracks. “Don’t say it. You want me to get rid of the flat. I know, I just hadn’t gotten it arranged yet.”  
She smiled. “Actually, I was thinking we should declare it a historic landmark. We could put up a plaque.”  
“We could call it ‘Phryne Fisher’s Waterloo’, perhaps?”  
“Not at all! ‘Jack Robinson’s’.” 

When all was said and done, they all came back to 221B The Esplanade to celebrate. Bert and Cec and Mac joined Mr. Butler for a toast to the newly married couple. Dot and Hugh regaled them all with their retelling of the event.

Phryne observed drily, “I hardly feel as if it was us who got married. I don’t know any John Robinson! And that clerk never did get my name right, not once.”  
“Nobody can,” declared Jack. “That’s why I always called you Miss Fisher.” Mac snorted.  
“Well, we’re married, and we have a paper to prove it, whoever we may be,” Phryne said firmly. 

When they could find a quiet moment, Dot took Phryne aside. “Remember way back, when you said you wanted to get married because you were concerned about the Inspector’s reputation?”  
Phryne smiled in a fond way. “Yes. I remember. It turns out that was only part of what I really wanted.”  
Dot persisted, “But I just wondered—how will a private wedding at a registry office help that? No one will know.”  
Phryne laughed. “That’s not a problem at all, Dot. I just made a phone call to Aunt Prudence.” 

By morning, their honourable estate was known all over town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To hear a love song that Phryne could never have heard, but might have sung if she could, try https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t1MXdJ76Mvk .


End file.
